


Mutiny

by impish_nature



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Prompt Fic, drama queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 06:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Prompt: "If I die, I'm never talking to you again."Or in short- Crowley is a drama queen





	Mutiny

**Author's Note:**

> 1 of 5 prompts I received c: I'll put as many as I can up tonight <3  
First foray into Good Omens writing so I hope its OK! These aren't as edited as I would usually do purely because these were meant to be some quick warm up fics.

Something was afoot.

It was just a suspicion, a doubt, fluttering through his mind. It would catch there, nervously, sticking to the inside of his skull and winding its way down into his chest like a needling inclination that not everything was as it seemed. But the paranoia spread with every off-kilter experience, growing more and more prominent until he couldn't quite brush it aside any longer.

Yes, something was definitely afoot.

And Crowley would find out what it was.

He always had been one to ask questions, curiosity winning over common sense every time. The need to learn, to know, weighed him down heavily and he never had quite learnt to hold his tongue or stop his eyes from roaming.

It had started off harmless enough. A few strange reactions, a few shifting twitches. Nothing out of the ordinary to anyone else, though also completely out of character from his perspective.

The changes had made him more snappish, more quick to lash out in response and yet it wasn't getting the reaction it might once have. The shock was gone, the fear dissipated though he wasn't quite sure how, or when, or _why_.

And then, one day- one fateful day-

Everything clicked into place.

"_You_."

Aziraphale stared up at him, eyes wide and innocent even whilst giving off the air of someone caught red-handed. "Yes?"

"Don't yes me, angel. You- you- What are you up to?" Crowley narrowed his eyes at him, his arms crossing across his chest as the other stayed on the floor in his apartment.

He knew he shouldn't have invited him over, there were reasons he didn't let him in. He kept calling it cold, and uninviting, he kept leaving little trinkets around that Crowley couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how much he told himself to (he blamed it on an angel's miracles, their seemingly invincible nature, but in honesty he would know if there were blessings and miracles in his little infernal London apartment).

He could contend with these travesties though- had contended with them, with minimal grumbling and fussing- but this?

This he would not stand for.

"I'm not doing anything, Crowley." Aziraphale's face puckered up into childlike confusion- Crowley didn't believe the bastard for a second, it was obvious to both of them what was happening. "I was just complimenting your gardening skills-"

"No. Stop it."

Aziraphale, huffed. "Don't be modest, your plants are gorgeous."

"No! You know exactly what you're doing. It's you, isn't it? Filling their heads with- with nonsense like that!"

Aziraphale stared at him, deadpan. "They're plants, Crowley."

"And you know, damn well, they understand." His eyes flickered over them, watching with satisfaction as they shook under his burning gaze. "And they do their best because they know what's good for them."

"I was just trying to help."

"Help? Help, he says! How in- how would this help?" Crowley flapped his arms widely, his glasses slipping down his nose with the movement.

"Because- that is-" Aziraphale sighed, frowning so disappointingly that Crowley almost wanted to run from the expression. "They're just so scared of you, Crowley."

"As they're meant to be- wait." Crowley's eyes narrowed again, slits of pure yellow locking onto now fearful angelic blues. "What exactly have you been telling them? This doesn't sound like just compliments anymore."

"Now, Crowley..." Aziraphale swallowed nervously as the other continued to stare pointedly at him, the strict air broaching no lies nor omissions. He clapped his hands together, fidgeting nervously as he looked anywhere but Crowley's gaze. "I mean technically I was complimenting- well, you." He sighed, finally flicking his gaze back to the others. "I mean, you don't have to scare them into submission-"

"I can't believe it."

"Crowley-"

"Mutiny! Betrayal!" Crowley pointed at him. "Out, out of this room, right now before you give them anymore ideas."

"Really? Come now-"

"I said, out, angel!" Crowley huffed, tugging him by his collar out of the room, though the other still held steadfast against him.

"Crowley, this is absurd. They're plants. All they need is some love, care and attention and they'll grow happily for you."

"I don't want them to grow happily. They need to be the best, otherwise what's the point of them?" Crowley huffed, disbelieving hands in the air again as Aziraphale refused to budge from the doorway.

His friend gave him a look, one that he pointedly ignored. "The plants you gave me are doing just fine, aren't they?"

"They're doing_ just fine_ because you keep indulging them! I made sure they were doing _their best_ until I gave them to you."

Aziraphale sighed, rolling his eyes. "If you insist. But I think they're doing rather nicely, and they're a lot happier knowing just how _nice_ you can be."

"I'm not nice and you know it." 

"Oh, I think I know you better than you do."

Crowley glared at him. "Stop giving them ideas. Otherwise you're going to leave me with a full scale rebellion once you're gone."

"Again- they're plants, Crowley."

"And? You don't know how plants revolt, they might overthrow me as soon as your back is turned. Take over the whole apartment without me keeping them in line and swallow London whole!"

The look he received was answer enough it seemed, his face flushing ever so slightly at the other's exasperation.

"What? Admit it! You don't know what they'll do! You shouldn't meddle with things that are working perfectly, and you know that. What would you do if something happened to me because of this, hmm? If I die because of this, I'm never speaking to you again, angel."

Aziraphale stared blankly at him for a few moments before giving out a bark of laughter.

"Not that it would ever happen but, yes, you most certainly would still speak to me. Who else is just enough of a bastard to be your friend?"

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times, stuttering out half sentences that met nothing but air as Aziraphale smiled and walked away from him towards the front door.

"That's besides the point- Come back here, I'm not done with you yet- Angel? Angel!"


End file.
